


All in the Cards

by Cantatrice18



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Card Games, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Rescue, Side Quests, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22518595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: Mission meets Lena on Kashyyyk, but learns more than just the whereabouts of her brother. Thanks to Griff, Lena herself is in trouble, and despite some deep reservations Mission agrees to help.An alternate to the Griff side-quest, because Mission deserves better than Griff.
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Shock flowed like ice water through Mission’s veins. She couldn’t believe that Lena, the greatest tramp on Taris, had somehow gotten herself to Kashyyyk. And after all Lena had done, she still had the nerve to look Mission in the eye. As though nothing had happened, and Griff was still right around the corner. “Lena? What . . . what are you doing here? Where’s Griff?”

“I’m just passing through,” the older Twi’lick said smoothly, her musical voice grating on Mission’s nerves. “Griff and I broke up a few months after we left Taris together. Probably for the best. Your brother can be charming, Mission, but he’s bad news.”

“Don’t you start trashing my brother, you cantina rat!” yelled Mission, her deep blue skin going purple with rage. “Take that back!”

“What-?” Lena gaped. “Mission, what’s wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?”

Behind them, Carth cleared his throat. “Mission gets a little worked up when it comes to her brother.”

Lena relaxed slightly. “Yeah, I know how she feels. Griff can be pretty frustrating,” she admitted ruefully. “I guess that's why Mission didn't want to come with us when we left Taris.”

“You liar!” Mission yelled. “Griff told me you didn't want his little sister tagging along – that's why he had to leave me behind!”

Lena gasped. “Is that what that Hutt-spawn told you? I wanted you to come with us Mission. I even offered to pay for your ticket! Why not? I paid for everything else while I was with that freeloader. But he told me you didn't want to leave Taris. I said we shouldn't even go then, but he said we'd come back and get you after we struck it rich on Tatooine – just another one of his lies!”

“No – you're the one who's lying,” Mission insisted. “Griff wouldn't… he wouldn't try to leave me behind!”

“Think about it,” Lena reasoned. “If Griff wasn't trying to ditch you, Mission, then why didn't he tell you where we were going? After we left Taris he told me looking after you was holding him back – Griff's always looking to blame other people for his own problems. That's why he abandoned you. He did the same thing to me, too, as soon as I ran out of money. Left me at a cantina in in the Xelios Range, along with 200 credits of debt he’d racked up at the Pazaak tables.”

“Griff's better off without you anyway,” Mission retorted weakly. The fact was, leaving Lena with his debts was exactly the sort of thing Griff would do. “You’re nothing but a table-dancing, brother-stealing homewrecker! Get out of my sight!”

Lena sighed. “Oh, Mission. I didn't mean to upset you. If I’d known it would be like this I ever would have approached you. It’s just – I’m happy to see you alive.” She looked down. “When I heard what had happened to Taris, my first thought was of you. All this time, I’ve thought you were dead or trapped in the wreckage with no one to care for you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Mission insisted. “I had to, after all, once you’d lured my brother away.”

“Yes, I suppose you can,” said Lena with a half-smile. “I never—”

She broke off with a wince of pain, her hand flying up to the metal choker that encircled her neck. “I suppose that’s my cue to leave,” she said. “He needs me.”

“Who needs you?” Mission asked, curious despite herself.

“My . . .” Lena looked away. “My master,” she mumbled. 

“Master?!” Mission squeaked. “But how—stop!”

Lena, who had turned to leave, looked back and smiled crookedly. “A minute ago you couldn’t wait for me to be gone.”

“That was before,” Mission said, gesturing at Lena’s collar by way of explanation. “I need to know what happened. Were you captured by slavers, or something?”

Lena grimaced. “Nothing so dramatic, Mission. Just . . . money. You remember how I said Griff left me at the cantina? Well, it wasn’t just Pazaak players he owed credits to. Half a dozen others came forward with unpaid debts to settle, and with Griff nowhere to be found they turned to me. They knew I was his companion, you see.”

“What happened then?” Mission whispered, her heart sinking already.

“The debt came out to nearly 500 credits, in the end,” Lena continued. “I couldn’t pay, so they locked me up.” She sounded matter-of-fact, as though this were someone else’s story instead of her own. “After a few days they decided it would be best to sell me and split the profits. So when a delegation from Czerka came into town, they approached some officers with their offer. And Landsing took them up on it.”

“He’s your . . .” Mission said, unwilling to finish her sentence.

“My master, yes,” Lena confirmed. “I’ve been his slave for nearly a year now.”

The collar around her neck gave an audible buzz and she jumped in surprise and pain. “I really have to go,” she told them apologetically. “If I wait too long . . .”

She didn’t bother to finish, but Mission understood. Collars were meant to keep slaves in line. If Lena ignored her master for too long, the shocks would grow until they were enough to knock her unconscious, or worse. “Where can I find you?” Mission asked desperately as Lena turned to go.

Lena shook her head emphatically. “You shouldn’t try, Mission. I don’t want you caught up in all this. I’m just so glad to see you. I wish you luck with, with everything. And if you find Griff . . .” she paused. “Well, I hope he treats you better than before.”

With that Lena turned and disappeared into a crown of Rodians who had just disembarked from their ship. Mission stared after her, numb with shock. She’d spent hours imagining a confrontation with Lena, the girl who’d stolen her brother away and ruined her life. But this was not the one-dimensional monster she’d held in her mind for so long. This Lena was far more complex and difficult to hate. The image of the collar wrapped around Lena’s graceful neck made Mission shiver. She would never have wished slavery on Lena, on anyone for that matter. Not in a million years. 

A thought made her pause, and idea of how she might help free Lena and get back at the human (for this Landsing person just had to be a human) who had kept an innocent Twi’lek enslaved. With luck, her plan might even help their party earn a few credits, though it depended entirely on how the dice fell. Or rather, the cards.

Mind teeming with possibilities, she ran all the way back to the Ebon Hawk, leaving Carth to trail behind. This would need some explaining if it was going to work.


	2. Chapter 2

The Czerka cantina was dark, as so many were, with musicians playing tired hits in the corner. It was hardly the “Den of Vice” that Jayyar’s cantina had been, but the same sorts of people could be found loitering about. Washed up Pazaak players, swoop fans, a couple people Mission was certain sold spice on the sly. Everywhere the same. Unconsciously, she drew a step closer to Revan. Dark Sith Lord or no, he was her ally here. He’d agreed to help without a moment’s hesitation as soon as she’d explained Lena’s situation. Mission had no idea what she would have done without him: no one else played Pazaak nearly as well, aboard the Hawk at least. Revan paused a few yards into the cantina and closed his eyes. Mission knew he must be using the Force to suss out their target. A second later his eyes snapped open and he nodded toward a table in the corner where a pair of men were playing an idle hand of cards. “There,” he murmured.

“Let’s go,” Mission said, with more bravado than she felt. She did not like the look of the men, particularly not the bigger one. He looked like the sort of person who would use his height to intimidate and bully people. As someone who stood a mere four-foot ten, Mission was used to men trying that tactic on her. She did not appreciate it. 

Revan led the way across the cantina to the men at the table, catching them at the tail end of their conversation. “Excuse me,” he said in his quiet way. “Might I have the honor of speaking with Colonel Landsing on a private matter.”

“I’m Landsing,” said the bigger man, as Mission was afraid he might. “What do you need, stranger? You’re interrupting business.”

Business my head tails, thought Mission, but Revan’s calm did not slip. “Your pardon, sir, but the matter I speak of involves a delicate subject.”

Landsing’s hairy eyebrows raised. He cocked his head and his playing partner immediately let the table. Revan took over the seat the man had vacated. “I seek a missing Twi’lek,” Revan explained. “Female, slim build, pale skin.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Landsing said. “Go to the missing person’s registry at headquarters. Not that it’ll do you any good. Aliens go missing all the time on planets like these.”

He grinned, showing yellow teeth. Mission shivered. She did not like the idea of this man coming anywhere near a captive woman. He looked like a rancor in human skin. 

Revan coughed politely. “It seems as though this Twi’lek has already been found. All indications say that you are the current owner of the female I seek.”

“Me? Oh,” Landsing laughed unpleasantly. “You mean Lena. She’s not for sale.”

“Are you certain?” asked Revan, and Mission could hear the Force overtones in his voice. “I could give you a good price for her.”

“Save your bargaining,” Landsing said staunchly. “I’m not selling you the Twi’lek. She gives me too much pleasure.”

Mission shuddered, and the motion attracted Landsing’s gaze. “Besides, what do you need my girl for, when you clearly have one of your own? Young, too.” Landsing’s nostrils flared like a predator as his eyes roved over Mission’s body. “How much do you want for her?”

“I’m not for sale!” Mission yelled, reddening as half the cantina went quiet. There went their chances of slipping in and out unnoticed. 

Landsing chuckled. “Feisty thing. You must be new to the slave trade, stranger. Most owners know to break their females of bad habits before taking them out in public.”

Every nerve in Mission’s body longed to draw her blaster and teach Landsing a lesson, but Revan merely laughed. “I prefer this female to speak her mind,” he explained. “I find it amusing. You might feel differently, of course, were you to own her.” 

He leaned backward, speaking clearly enough that the surrounding patrons (all of whom were now listening intently) could hear. “I wonder if you’d indulge me in a game of Pazaak. As you can see, I have quite the prize with me.” He gestured at Mission. “I’ll wager my female against yours. Winner keeps both.”

Mission’s gasp of horror was drowned out by the murmurs that filled the cantina. Landsing seemed momentarily taken aback by the proposition, but soon began to laugh. “Gods of Korriban, you certainly have guts to come in here with that kind of proposition. Very well, then. I accept.”

He struck a trio of buttons on the edge of his communicator bracelet and then withdrew a Pazaak deck from his jacket pocket. “I warn you, I don’t play nice.”

There was a rustling sound and the crowd parted to let a Twi’lek female pass. Mission felt her mouth grow dry. Lena was barely recognizable from that afternoon. Her eyes were lined with kohl, her head tails ringed with silver-stamped leather. And she was wearing . . . Mission gulped. They could hardly be considered clothes, more like undergarments. Nothing was left to the imagination, that much was certain. The thought of being forced to wear such things made Mission’s stomach churn. She hoped, she prayed that Revan knew what he was doing. She would rather die than end up flaunting her body in front of sleezy Rodians and perverted humans all day.

As the two humans prepared their decks, Mission took a seat beside Revan. Across from them, Lena did the same, settling just out of her master’s reach. Lena’s eyes were lowered, the very picture of an obedient slave, but Mission could see the muscles in her arms tense up. Likely as not, Lena’s hands were busy picking at what little fabric covered her body. It was an old habit of hers, like fidgeting with her nails, that Mission remembered from long ago. Other memories followed on the heels of that one, and Mission felt her mind begin to wander.

_What a beautiful starship! Are you going to name it? Griff, look, your sister’s done a drawing. You’re quite the artist, Mission. . ._

_Twice ‘round the left tail, then up and over. Same on the right, tie it off, and you’re done! Simple as that . . ._

_They most certainly can’t say such things, not in front of me. Griff, those awful gang boys have been picking on your sister. I won’t have it! You’ll need to talk to Gadon, or I swear I will. She’s only eleven . . ._

_Shh, it’s alright, Mission. I’m sure Griff didn’t mean to sell it. He can’t have known what it meant to you. I’ll find some way to get it back, don’t you worry. . ._

_I’m here, Mission. I’m here. ___

__Mission swallowed hard, forcing the memories away. Her chest hurt as though she’d been punched. How could she have missed it? When she looked back on her childhood, the best year of her life had been when Griff had brought Lena into their home. Lena, who had always been patient even when Mission had worked herself up into a fit of jealousy. Lena, who waited up at night to be sure Mission returned home safely. Lena . . . her sister._ _

__Griff was not the only family she’d lost the day that star freighter had left. She’d lost Lena as well. And now here they were, separated by a card table and a pair of human men. Mission felt anger boil through her once again, but this time it was on Lena’s behalf. She knew enough about humans and the slave trade to know just what “services” Landsing would have forced Lena to perform. She’d had just about enough of men taking out their basest desires on whatever poor Twi’lek they could find. Landsing ought to count himself lucky that Mission had refrained from cutting off certain of his appendages with her vibroblade._ _

__Glancing down at the card table, all the breath was forced out of her lungs in a rush._ _

__They were losing._ _

__Revan’s deck wasn’t strong enough, and his hand was mediocre at best. Already they were close to busting, and there was one more card to go. This was the final round – winner take all._ _

__Landsing made his final play, then sat back. “A perfect twenty, my good man,” he crowed. “Looks like I’ll be entertaining two slave girls in my quarters tonight.”_ _

__Revan said nothing. His hand hovered over the final card, and Mission felt a shiver in the air. “Twenty,” Revan murmured, as he flipped the card over._ _

__There was a rush of chatter among the onlookers as Landsing sat up straight. “Impossible,” the officer cried. “You can’t have . . . “_ _

__He trailed off as he saw the truth spread out before him on the table. “Fine. Another round, then.”_ _

__“That will not be necessary,” Revan answered, taking a final card from his hand. “I believe this will be enough.”_ _

__The entire room leaned in to look as he flipped the card over. A golden tie-break card sat winking up at them from the center of the table._ _

__There was a commotion among the onlookers, many of whom had been betting on the outcome of the match. Landsing broke form and grabbed the tie-break card, holding it up to the light. “Cheating! I’m sure of it! Such cards don’t exist!”_ _

__“But they do,” said an Ithorian nearby, and the Rodian beside him nodded._ _

__“They’re incredibly rare, but they’re real,” the cantina owner admitted. He’d snuck in to watch, some time in between rounds. “I’ve never seen one before, but I’ve seen pictures.”_ _

__“You—” Landsing was apoplectic with rage and humiliation. “Dirty dealing. You should have declared such a card in advance.”_ _

__“That’s not how the game works, Colonel,” the cantina owner reminded him._ _

__“I—” Landsing stood up suddenly. “I refuse to pay you for what was obviously a rigged game. I’m leaving.”_ _

__He reached down and grabbed Lena by the shoulder. The moment he touched her, the room went ice cold._ _

__“I would let go of her if I were you,” said Revan slowly._ _

__“Shut up, rogue,” Landsing growled. “I ought to shoot you like a kathhound.”_ _

__Revan stood, showing no outward sign of anger. His eyes were on Landsing, who had already begun to sweat. “You will hand over the Twi’lek.”_ _

__Landsing’s hand dropped away from Lena’s shoulder as though he’d been burned._ _

__“You will leave this planet and you will not return,” Revan continued. “You will never own a slave again.”_ _

__“I—I…” Landsing stuttered. There seemed to be something wrong with his throat._ _

__“You will leave, or I will make you spill every dark secret you have right here, in front of these witnesses. Would you like them to know what you did on Cathar?”_ _

__Landsing shuddered. “Take her, then,” he groaned. “I never want to see her again.”_ _

__He removed the communicator bracelet and threw it at Revan’s feet. Mission darted around the table and took Lena by the arm, leading her to stand beside Revan. Together, the three of them swept out of the cantina without another word. Glancing behind them, Mission saw that Landsing had slumped to the floor in a dead faint._ _

__Lena remained silent until they reached the Ebon Hawk. Then she stopped and pulled Mission into an embrace. “How can I ever thank you?” she whispered._ _

__“Thank him, not me,” Mission said awkwardly, tilting her head toward Revan._ _

__“Yes,” said Lena, and Mission thought she heard a note of trepidation in the older female’s voice. “Thank you, sir, for all you did.”_ _

__“Of course,” said Revan simply. “Mission made it very clear we could not leave the planet without freeing you first.”_ _

__Lena smiled, an open smile Mission hadn’t seen in years. “Griff never knew how lucky he was to have a sister like you. I hope, when you track him down, he realizes what he missed. You deserve a shot at a real family.”_ _

__“I have a real family,” Mission answered. “I have Big Z. My crew on the Ebon Hawk. And I have a sister.” She took Lena’s hand. “You’re welcome to come with us, if you’d like.”_ _

__Lena shook her head. “It’s better I stay here. With Landsing out of the picture, there are some leads I’d like to follow. I’m still a dancer, after all.” She squeezed Mission’s hand. “I’ll always be here for you, if you need me.”_ _

__Mission nodded, feeling tears welling in the corner of her eyes. “This won’t be the last time,” she promised. “Stay safe.”_ _

__“You too, little sister,” Lena murmured. “Now go on an adventure, like I always knew you would.”_ _


End file.
